


A Day in the Life

by Sourlander



Series: Unknown Limits [10]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Stormpilot, moe - Freeform, poefinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:12:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourlander/pseuds/Sourlander
Summary: Modern AU - Poe and his long term partner Morap have their own salon and business isn't going as Poe would have thought... loads of fluff in this one!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraLynne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraLynne/gifts).



> This one is another gift for AuroraLynne! She loved the idea of Morap working in a salon, so here goes... xD Special thanks to my wonderful beta Flausengut once again!!

#  **A Day in the Life**

 

The numbers in front of him didn’t add up. Scratching his temple with the end of the pencil, Poe sighed and pulled the calculator in front of him closer once more. Of course he knew that Morap wasn’t the best at keeping track of expenses and revenues, especially since he was kind of sloppy with giving away free samples of some products whenever he felt like it and not noting down tips. The cash register was always a mess, but at least he counted its content at the end of every day. But that didn’t mean that bookkeeping for Morap was easy exactly. The only thing the numbers in front of them had going for them, was that there was more money coming in than was going out.

            Poe had been sitting over Morap’s books for the better part of two hours, while Morap had sent away his assistant Sadrina, who had been feeling poorly, had taken care of the costumers she had had to leave sitting in their chairs, and in total had messed up so many people’s heads and nails that Poe was wondering how on earth Morap could even keep this business running. Looking up from the counter he was sitting on, he turned his eyes to his husband working on some guy’s hair sitting on a chair near the sunlit window.

Poe figured that the cheesy opera music softly playing in the background made the costumers feeling like they were in a first class salon, whose owner simply didn’t subscribe to conventional rules. Morap’s work was considered eccentric for some reason, and not a complete disaster, which Poe thought it actually was.

As Poe was watching Morap taking out the hair clipper, he couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t hear what the two of them were talking about, but the costumer’s smile was kind of contagious and the enthusiastic gestures, which accompanied what he was saying made Poe really want to listen in on their conversation. Morap laughed out loud and at the same time the costumer laughed as well and the hair clipper slipped. Morap didn’t seem to notice though and simply continued working on the man’s hair as if nothing had happened.

Shaking his head, Poe returned to working on Morap’s books. It’s what he usually did when he had some time off work. He had served in the Air Force for some time, where he had Morap, but after Morap had been injured during a mission and only barely had gotten away with his life, Poe had quit the military at the same time as his then boyfriend had been forced to retire. The head injury he had received in that horrible crash five years ago had left Morap unfit to fly, thus robbing him of the only thing he had thought he’d ever been good at. Several months after they had both returned to Morap’s home town, Morap had grabbed Poe by the hand, out of the blue, taken him to this place and told him of his big plans. The barber shop in front of them had looked well kept. Apparently the owner had just died and before Poe could even ask what the hell Morap could possibly want to show him here, Morap had told him about his crazy idea of a hair and nail salon.

Poe had looked Morap up and down then with raised eyebrows. The messy red hait, the torn jeans and stained, old fashioned shirt surely hadn’t recommended Morap as someone destined to work on other people’s outward appearance. “For dogs, right?” Poe had asked half sceptical, half hopeful. They had gotten a dog shortly afterwards, but Morap had focused on working on actual people and he was obviously enjoying doing so to this day. Poe was glad to see that Morap had obviously found his second calling and was keeping himself busy, while Poe was away working for a small airline. It wasn’t exactly a line of work Poe was particularly interested din, but at least he was still flying and paying the bills, even if it meant getting either rich, snobby tourists or executive managers to various locations.

            “Alright then, Mr Storm,” Morap said, stepping away from his costumer and admiring the asymmetrical haircut he had given the man. He held up a round mirror, so Mr Storm could have a look at the back of his head. “What do you think?” Morap asked with a winning smile on his lips, which reminded Poe vividly of a boy presenting his mother with a home made dirt cake.

            The man was silent for a moment, apparently mulling over whether or not Morap was serious about his work and if this short path Morap had cut into his hair looks more like a catastrophe than anything else, or could indeed be considered art after all. Morap’s smile seemed to win him over however, and he nodded hesitantely.

            “Fine,” he said. “Thanks, Morap.” He got up and walked towards Poe at the counter. The corgi lying at Poe’s feet raised its head, its pointed ears standing up in attention as it heard the man approaching, but at a single look from Poe, Beebee relaxed. He was used to being in the salon after all, and this Storm-guy seemed to be a regular by the way he interacted with Morap.

            “How much do I owe you?”

            Poe looked at the price list in front of him and only barely managed to held back a surprized laugh. These prizes Morap demanded of his costumers had always been ridiculous, but they had climbed even higher by the looks of it. But charging his costumers a lot of money, according to Morap, implied quality and style. Funnily this whole concept seemed to be working really well for Morap, since people were still showing up here.

            “That’ll be fifty dollars,” Poe said, imitating his husband’s winning smile surprized at the fact that the man in front of him didn’t even flinch. With a nod the other man just took out his wallet and paid Poe, not without adding a generous tip. Behind him Morap was cleaning up the man’s hair. Even more surprized Poe took the money and thanked the man, who returned his smile and then turned around to leave.

            “Thanks again, Morap,” he said in his deep voice. “See you around.”

            “See you around, Finn,” Morap said and after a brief handshake, the man left the salon.

            “Finn, huh?” Poe said and stashed away the money in the cash register. “Does he come here often?”

            Morap’s head snapped around and his eyes were wide open as he returned Poe’s gaze. “What?” His lips were slightly parted in astonishment and he was holding the broom in mid-air, apparently unable to continue cleaning.

            Laughing, Poe shook his head and turned around. The very thought that Morap could believe that he’d get jealous over anyone else but little Beebee was simply ridiculous. “Never mind,” her grinned and got up. “Need help?”

            “That’s not funny, you know?” Heaving a sigh, Morap leaned the broom against the window. “Making me believe for even a second that you don’t trust me…” He sounded grumpy and his tone of voice made Poe smile even wider.

            “Sorry,” Poe answered, trying very hard to fight back that treacherous grin. “Aren’t I allowed to joke around every once in a while?”

            Morap shrugged, but didn’t return his gaze. Poe got up from his chair and slowly walked towards his husband, who only looked up reluctantly once Poe was standing right in front of him. They had been married for three years now and Poe hadn’t regretted the decision for even one second and he was sure that the same held true for Morap. “That Finn is a cute guy, but of course I trust you. I always have and I always will. Smile for me?”

            He didn’t have to ask twice. Morap’s smile was radiant and seemed to brighten the entire room. That was just who he was. Morap never stayed angry or sad for long. That was one of the main reasons why Poe had been attracted to him in the first place. Morap simply emanated this sense of something Poe couldn’t quite place, but which made Poe feel comfortable around this man at all times.

            “Just for you…” Morap murmured and reached out to pull Poe closer to him. Before their lips could touch however, a loud yapping behind them gave Poe a start. The next moment the door was pushed open and Poe whirled around to see who was disturbing them.

            Beebee had rushed forward, jumping up at the man who had just entered and was holding the door wide open for a much smaller person to walk in after him. “Can’t you keep your dog in line, Morap?” Meelan Bendar, as severe and unfriendly looking as ever, pushed the dog away, who immediately started running around Meelan’s son.

            “He’s only doing his job, brother dear,” Morap responded, pushing Poe aside and greeting his brother with a formal handshake. The two of them looked very much alike, Poe thought, not for the first time, except for the fact that Meelan’s face was a bit rounder that Morap’s and the expression on his face rarely ever a pleasant one. It was a miracle that Meelan’s son was taking more after his uncle than his father.

            Morap closed the door behind his brother and nephew and put his hands on his hips, while the boy sat down on the floor and unceremoniously grabbed Beebee, who immediately started licking his face. “Don’t let him lick your face!”, Meelan said in a voice, which had been a lot more severe a couple of seconds ago, when he had addressed his brother.

            “Hello to you too, Meelan.” Poe picked up the broom and walked towards the back to get the dustpan. He had never liked Morap’s brother particularly and it was clear that that feeling was mutual. The only thing keeping them on friendly terms was Morap. It wasn’t that Meelan Bendar was an indecent guy, exactly, but he and Poe had simply never really gotten along. Meelan was a business man, who had picked up his mother’s company after she had retired and Poe wasn’t entirely sure how crooked the deals Meelan made actually were. The only thing he did know about Meelan was that he was devoted to his family, even Morap, the black sheep of the family who had refused to take any of his family’s money and had joined the Air Force to become a pilot. Meelan had never been able to understand why Morap had acted the way he had, but he had never stopped talking to his younger brother, much unlike his mother, who hadn’t even attended Poe’s and Morap’s wedding.

            “Hello, Poe,” Meelan said. “Not working today?”

            Pushing away the curtain hiding Morap’s storage and break room, Poe shrugged. “I have the week off.” He didn’t think it necessary to say that he and Morap had celebrated their wedding anniversary the day before. He was sure that Meelan neither remembered the date, nor cared about it. But at least he had _been_ at their wedding and he didn’t seem to hold Poe responsible for Morap not joining the family business after his injury.

            The boy meanwhile didn’t really listen to his father but kept holding on to the dog. Sighing, Meelan looked at his brother again, as Poe returned with the dustpan. “Could you look after him for a while? I have to meet a business partner, Nataleeh is with her father in the hospital and I can’t possibly take him along.”

            “Sure. Little Morap can stay with us whenever.” Morap’s grin was disarming. He never grew tired of his brother naming his first born son after the brother he was slightly ashamed of, at least in public. Poe knew that for some strange reason Nataleeh, whose father had been poorly these last couple of months, had urged Meelan to give their son the name Morap. Probably because for one Morap’s life had been hanging in the balance, but on the other hand, and that was probably the most likely reason, she had insisted on it, because she simply loathed her mother in law, who often pretended like she didn’t even have a second son.

            But Meelan, used to his brother’s teasing, just nodded and gently patted his four year old son’s hair. “I’ll see you around, Morap,” he said in a soft voice, which never ceased to take Poe by surprize. Meelan Bendar wasn’t a gentle man in general, but apparently his son’s appearance in this world had changed that profoundly.

            “Bye, Dad!” Little Morap looked up at his father with a genuinely bright smile, but didn’t look after him, as Meelan quickly said his goodbye and then left the salon quickly.

            Poe and Morap exchanged glances and then Poe continued cleaning up, while Morap went the counter and came back holding a bright red lollipop in his hand like a trophy. “Would you like one?”, he asked his nephew, who was lying on the white tiled floor by now, his head resting on Beebee’s belly and his hand’s buried in the dog’s orange fur.

            “Sure!” Morap sat up and stretched out his hand. At Beebee’s dissatisfied sigh, Morap put an arm around the dog and pulled him towards him. “Thanks, Uncle Morap!”

            With a sigh, Morap knelt down right in front of him. “I told you not to call me uncle. It makes me feel really old. I don’t call you Little Morap, now, do I.”

            “You did call me Little Morap just now.”

            Grinning, Poe turned his head to look at the pair of them on the floor. Morap handed his nephew the lollipop without another comment. “So, how did your Mom like your toe nails last week?”, he asked, heading for the trash can behind the corner.

            Little Morap’s giggle was truly heart warming. “She laughed,” he recalled. “And said you did a really bad job.”

            “She said _what?!_ ” Morap cried in fake disbelief, grabbed his nephew around the middle, got up and started whirling him around the centre of the room. Beebee started barking and jumping up at Morap right away, while Poe just leaned against the counter, watching uncle and nephew romping around the room. Little Morap’s shrill laugh was mixed with Beebee’s ear shattering bark and all of a sudden Poe felt a shudder run down his spine and his insides clenched. This picture was perfect. Way too much so.

            “Come on, stop it you three!”, he cried, ignoring the stinging sensation in his eyes. The grin on his face simply wouldn’t go away. “Hey!”

            Morap stopped spinning around and stumpled against the door frame. “Huh?”

            Shaking his head, Poe approached one of the chairs and invitingly patted the seat.  “Come here.”

Little Morap only just managed to hold on to his uncle’s leg for support. “What?!”

            “Why don’t we prove your mom wrong?” He asked and out of his pocket he took a bottle of bright orange nail varnish he had picked up moments before. “Plus I think your uncle really could do with a bit of practice.”

            “Gee, thanks…” Morap mumbled, but carried Little Morap over to the chair without another word. “What do you think?”

            Little Morap contemplated this for a moment, and then looked at Poe. “Can Beebee sit on my lap?”, he asked unwrapping the lollipop and sticking it in his mouth. Poe could see the edges of it pushing against the insides of the cheeks.

            “If he wants to sit on your lap, sure he can.”

            While Morap drew up two chairs, Poe went back to the counter, grabbed two more lollipops, unwrapped those as well and picked up Beebee on his way back to the other two.

 

Not one single costumer had entered through the door, while Morap and Poe had been busy painting Little Morap’s toe nails. The result was perfectly fine, in Poe’s opinion, but the main event of the afternoon had not been the painting of nails, but rather the stories Morap told. They were neither very inventive, nor particularly original, but the way he told them made Poe forget where they were entirely and from the look on Little Morap’s face, the boy felt exactly the same. Only reluctantly had he looked up as his mother arrived to pick him up, and he had only left after Morap had promised to come and visit him as soon as he could.

            As Poe watched Little Morap and his mother get into the dark red Mercedes she had parked in front of the salon, Poe thought that the boy really managed to brighten up any room. Just like his uncle. Morap had his arm around Poe’s waist and after Nataleeh had driven off, he turned around the sign, which read “OPEN”.

            Poe felt weirdly warm inside with Morap next to him, and this salon, which by looking at the amount of costumers, who had come in here wasn’t doing as well as Morap’s books suggested, surrounding them.

            “You’re manipulating the books, aren’t you?” Poe asked without looking at Morap, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. Why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he mad?

            “Well…” Morap said, pulling Poe closer to him. “Just a bit… the real books are in the back, if you want to take a look at them… I’m doing okay, just… not great.”

            Poe nodded, but still didn’t return Morap’s gaze. “It’s fine. Just… maybe don’t charge as much and stop doing the nail thing? You’re the worst nail person this world has ever seen… and let Sadrina do more of the work…”

            Morap’s quiet laugh made him feel even better. “She _is_ doing most of the work.”

            Poe heaved a sigh of relief. “Well then…”, he mumbled and reached for the lock to turn around the key. “Shall we go home and make some plans?” Finally he turned his head to look at Morap, whose eyes showed nothing but surprize.

            “Dinner plans?”

            “Nah…” Poe shrugged. “Plans plans… just seeing you with Little Morap-“ He stopped, unable to continue talking all of a sudden. The look on Morap’s face robbed him of the ability to breathe. The intensity with which Morap was staring right into his eyes, froze Poe in place. Unable to move even a finger, he looked right back into his husband’s eyes and even before Morap had pressed his lips to Poe’s did he know that he had said just the right thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
